I'm not quite sure what to think yet, but there might be a development in the food realm.  It gives me hope, perhaps, that it is possible to make a difference, to change things in a way that denies the momentum of poor decisions.  Contemplating what remains to be done is daunting.  But at least something must be done, urgently needed action as tonic for the soul.  So, awake, at last, stirring into the mix thoughts of redemption and hope for the first time in ages.  Shades of meaning, at last, in the seaerch for truth among food.

Hope, a rare commodity, returns.  It feels easy, the possibilities unlimited.  I don't know what to say.  Getting that phone call almost made my hair stand on end.  Can you spend ten years of your life ignoring the truth, only to confront it once again and find that it was merely waiting, always there, ready to return.  I cannot wait to see where this goes. 

Julienned Zucchini Salad with lemon juice and Truffle oil over Rutabaga carpaccio

Equal parts Yellow and Green Zucchini (about 1 small zucchini per serving)

Rutabaga (1 medium rutabaga per 10 servings, e.g. About 40 thin slices)

Lemon juice (about 1 tsp/serving)

Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Pomegranate (about 15 seeds per serving)

Truffle Oil

Salt and Pepper

Mandolin rutabaga into thin, flexible slices. Toss with good EVO, lemon juice and s&p. Layer flat on hotel pan and let marinate.

Shred yellow and green zucchini (Mandolin medium julienne, like spaghetti)

Toss with lemon juice, EVO and s&p

Put four slices of rutabaga on plate, top with zucchini mix, and drizzle a tiny bit of truffle oil. Sprinkle with pomegranate seeds. These canll be in separate bins on the line and easily plated during service.

Melon and tomato soup with lemon-ginger-mint cashew cream

4 parts melon to 1 part tomatoes -- ideally sweet melon like charlyn or ambrosia and a good balance of acid vs. sweet tomatoes, like red and yellow brandywine and cherokee purple

Raw cashews – only about a ½ Tbsp of cashew cream per serving, and two cups yields about 3 cups of cream.

fresh ginger, about 3 Tbsp minced per 3 cups of cream

Fresh spearmint, about 10 to 15 leaves per 3 cups of cream, plus more for garnish

Lemons (about ¼ cup juice per 3 cups of cream)

Salt & pepper

Soup --

Seed and peel melons. Slice tomatoes in half and squeeze seeds and liquid through sieve into bowl. Reserve liquid for thinning, if necessary. Discard seeds.

For large batch, place melon and tomatoes in large stockpot and use immersion blender to puree until smooth. Adjust seasoning.

Cashew cream --

Peel and finely mince ginger, about 3 Tbsp per blender load. Add to blender with raw cashews (about half a blender full at a time) and just barely cover with water. Add about 10 or 15 leaves of mint. Add about a T of lemon juice. Blend until cream is utterly smooth (and ginger is obliterated) on the back of a spoon. Taste for ginger flavor and adjust seasoning, too. Should be slightly runny, the consistency of heavy cream. Put cream in squirt bottles for service.

Pour from pitcher into bowls, about 8oz a serving (depends on size of bowls) and a squirt of cashew cream and a leaf of mint (if feasible).

Here are my ideas for the recipes.  The first is a variation on the zucchini salad I did at the wedding.  The rutabaga provides a bridge between the last of the summer squash and the first of the fall root vegetables.  The slight spiciness of the rutabaga stands up well against the bright acid of the lemon, the earthy tone of the truffle oil and the pop of the pomegranate seeds.  It also looks really cool.  I think that this is totally feasible for volume service since each item can be in like a third pan or something and plated up very quickly.  The other dish is a very easy variation on a last of the summer cold soup with melons and tomatoes.  The cool sweetness of the fruit blends well and the cream pulls everything together with the final, similar, earthy tone of the ginger. 

I'm not sure exactly what the limits are on service, and these things can be modified if the plating is too complicated for the volume at No Name.  Specifically, we can change the salad to skip the slices and instead add some rutabaga julienne to the salad.  If practical, however, i would like to plate it up with the carpaccio idea since it looks pretty and it provides nice textural contrast with the firm bite of the rutabaga paired against the chewy texture of the zucchini.  But practical details aside, the ingredients will not change. 

It started abruptly.  I was angry, and I looked around for new opportunities.  And there it was.  Am I on my way?  To change of some form or another at least.  Come friday, we shall see.

The wizard did not speak.

It is one thing to be nervous.  That is expected.  But to be nearly sick, so wracked with worry?  Curious.  The recipes were ready, quite good, and I was ready, knives sharp.  I met Derek and Cheryl and Todd and Jose, and Youn(?)  and George, and Leo, and Autumn, Mitri (?), more, I cannot remember the pastry chefs’ name, the executive chef that visited, the buyer for the café and another, but they will return, and wandered the campus.  Showing up before dawn, still in early dark, unsure of where or what.  Security lets me in, I cannot print a badge.  Inside, though, and Derek is there, and coat and hat later, on my way into the winding maze, the too narrow halls, the noise of burners and chaos.  Stacks, unimaginable stacks of vegetables, fruit, everything, the very cornucopia of it all.  The odd isolation, among the quirky tech babble of the food stained wretches, churning food for the masses.  Popped free into the hall ways still and echoing with silence toward the basement clutter of the garage and delivery and its all food, everywhere, in every form.  Foodlove true it seems.  With my ingredients, with my sense of what is where and what is why, back into the kitchen to hopefully start this thing.  And the usual scramble, of what is where, where are the pans, the wrap, the ginger, the lids, it all comes clear, true, at some point, put the nervous pacing, the moments when I have to ask, close to begging, for the answers, make my stomach churn, and the unknown feel of the place, the obscure walls, the walls the do not clarify for me why I am there, leave me feeling empty, and scared, really, that the transition is too much, too fast, and not enough forethought into the real ramifications.  But I do love this, it love it effortlessly, and the very energy that spins my stomach spins my wheels and drives me forward for the first time in so long, so damn long that it almost makes sense.  Walking among those pans and the dish clattering, and the heat, and the rice cooking, and knives chopping, and the chefs chattering and humming and the music switching between tempos, and finding in all that noise, for the first time in a long time not only actual desire, real wanting, but also here, look, writing, words coming out, strong verbs, right, try to eliminate the modifiers, and the judge is at play in the mess of language before I can even gasp, and stand still in wonder at this play of sound across the landscape, across the mindless sea of space leftover from other, more awkward, more hopeful, able, hopefully, to find solace at last.

Amazing experience in Italy.  Garga trattoria sucks.  It was so amazing in 1994, it was so horrible in 2006.  Food was mediocre, service was insulting, prices outrageous.  In contrast, Il Lattini, which I assumed was overrated, was amazing -- perfect ribollita, farro soup, pappa al pomodoro.  La Carabaccia had the outstanding use of porcinis with crostini topped by a sort of marinated, mushroom saute.  Da Delfina was also very disappointing, except for a sformato of swiss chard with an amazing bean puree.   It was almost a bean reduction, the essence of beans.  Otherwise, there was too much oil, and fried mushrooms was a greesy disaster.  Good trattoria on piazza del carmine, grilled porcini caps, good ribollita, outstanding penne with sweet peppers, capers and olives.  Saw a potential place I did not get to try with Pazzi in the name.  

But the overall winner was Il Girasole in Milan.  Federico Boglietti makes some of the best veg food I've ever had.  A starter of white cabbage with a mustard sauce popped.  Seitan was o.k., maybe a little too reminiscent of meat, but amazing texture.  Key was a red pepper sauce, like a red pepper jam almost, that went well with the mustard.  Mustard seemed to be the exotic ingredient, since it is apparently almost unknown in Italy.  Also had a killer, killer, black chard and borlotti bean soup, and Kelly had amazing ravioli di zucca with sage.  Also had a sort of sformato of quinoa, though it was really just a pile of quinoa cooked with squash -- it would have been better maybe with a little more diverse, and more distinct, flavor profile.  The topper, though, was desert.  Inauspiciously called a carrot muffin, the results was a mind blowing experience, perfect, wow, overwhelming.

Still no word, crossing my fingers, change is in the air, thoughm nonetheless. 

Eric Tucker just sent me an e-mail, looking for help with an event at Tierra Vegtables this weekend.  A fundraiser for LandPaths, the event is stone soup -- everyone comes and picks their own dinner from the fields, and then lends a hand cooking it up.  It will be sort of a large scale cooking class.  Stoked!  Especially if I get to hit Upper Burma in Annadel on the Titus before hand.  Some fine mountain biking is definitely in order.